First Impressions
by LoLoGreeneVines
Summary: Looking back, Uryu would wonder how he could ever have found her to be annoying.
1. Chapter 1

The first time Uryu had ever laid eyes on her, he had been immediately irritated.

He had been sewing silently in the classroom in the morning of the first day of the school year when she had barged in, giggling incessantly with her friend and shrieking about goodness-knows-what.

Offering no apology to Uryu for interrupting his peace, the first girl had noisily proceeded to take out a thumbtack and attempt to pin a sheet of paper to the wall next to the door. Every time she had tried, it had fallen straight back down to the floor.

"Aww, Tatsuki, it won't stick," she had said, sadly, her voice grating on Uryu's ears.

"Give it here," the other girl, Tatsuki, had responded. Seizing the sheet of paper and the thumbtack from the other girl's hands, Tatsuki had held the pin against the paper in her left hand and used her right fist to repeatedly punch the pin into the wall.

Uryu had winced with every _THWACK_, careful to keep his hand steady as he carefully stitched the Quincy cape in his clasp.

"There! That'll stay where it is forever, now," Tatsuki had declared, and the other girl had bounced on her feet excitedly and clapped her hands together.

"Brilliant! Oh, thank you so much for helping me with this incredibly important task, Tatsu... ooh, hello!"

Uryu had glanced up at that moment to see the girl waving vigorously at him from across the room. He said nothing.

"Whatever you're sewing looks really amazing!" she had continued, apparently not put off by Uryu's lack of a response. "I hope you're planning on joining the handicrafts club!"

As she had gestured at the sheet of paper she and Tatsuki had just pinned by the door, Uryu's heart sank. As a matter of fact, he _had_ been planning to join the club, if only because he knew he would be good at it and it would annoy his father. The fact that this irritating girl was a member definitely counted as a strike against it...

"I'll consider it," he had replied.

"Brilliant!" exclaimed the girl. "I look forward to seeing you there!"

And with that, she had walked off, wittering away to her friend. Uryu had returned to his sewing, wondering if irritating his father was really worth having to spend time around this irksome girl.

* * *

That afternoon, Uryu found himself standing outside the handicraft club's room, a plastic _Sunflower Seams_ bag hanging from his right hand and his left hand hovering in the direction of the door-handle, as though it couldn't decide whether to knock or not.

_Irritating Ryuken, being irritated myself. Ryuken being indifferent, myself not suffering. Hmm..._

Uryu made up his mind, and just as he was about to lower his hand and turn to walk away, the door flew open and Uryu found himself staring at the face of a pretty girl with long, honey-brown hair.

_Rats._

"Oh, it's you!" the girl shrieked in excitement, grabbing Uryu's arm and dragging him inside the room before he could protest. The door swung shut behind him and Uryu stumbled forwards, feeling the eyes of every girl in the room watching him curiously and the males regarding him with envy as she frogmarched him inside.

_Believe me_, Uryu thought. _I'm not enjoying this._

Uryu prised the girl's hand from his wrist and forced himself to look into her questioning eyes. "If you don't mind, I think I'll just sit here," he murmured, choosing an empty desk at the side of the classroom and setting his bag down.

The girl tilted her head marginally to the side, her eyebrows drawn into a slight frown. "Oh, okay then," she said, an hint of disappointment evident in her voice. "Well, if you want to talk, I'll be over there with the others!"

"I'll bear that in mind," said Uryu, quickly emptying his fabric and thread from the bag and pointedly not looking at the girl as she glanced at him, sadly, one last time, before she turned and walked away.

* * *

"Whoops! I just remembered that I never did ask you for your name! That was rude."

Uryu deigned to look up from the embroidery he was packing away in his bag at the end of the hour and found the girl standing in front of him, looming over the desk and peering eagerly at his work. Uryu hastily closed the bag.

"It's Uryu Ishida," he said, slinging the carrier bag into his rucksack and shouldering it. "Like 'rain dragon'."

"That's a nice name," the girl responded, smiling broadly. "I'm Orihime Inoue."

Uryu regarded Orihime's face for a couple of seconds, before forcing a polite smile. "'Weaving princess.' That's apt, considering you sew." _And you look like a princess._

_Wait, where did_ that_ thought come from?_

Orihime's smile widened further. "I know. Well, you look like you're in a hurry, so I guess I'll see you here tomorrow?"

_NO. She is annoying. Just say no, before she can get on your nerves even more._

"I guess," Uryu shrugged, only realising what he had said when Orihime beamed at him.

"Fantastic!" she declared, brightly. "Well, it was nice to meet you properly, Uryu. See you tomorrow!"

Uryu gave her a stiff nod before he made his way towards the door, wondering how everybody except him and Orihime had filed out of the classroom without him noticing.

* * *

"What are you sewing, Uryu?"

Uryu glanced up, as usual, to Orihime's smiling face.

"You're quite persistent, aren't you?"

Orihime's smile briefly twitched, before she stared down at her hands.

Uryu immediately felt guilty for snapping at her; she really hadn't done anything wrong.

"Ah, I'm sorry, Orihime," said Uryu, quickly. "That was unkind of me."

"No, it's okay," Orihime said, her genuine smile immediately returning. "Everybody has bad days, right?"

Uryu didn't understand. How could this girl be so forgiving?

"I just noticed that you don't really have any friends," Orihime continued, peering straight into Uryu's eyes in a way that made him feel slightly uncomfortable. "I would like to be friends with you, if you want."

For the first time in many months, Uryu couldn't think of a single thing to say. Therefore, he said nothing.

After a few seconds, Orihime clapped her hands together. "Okay, you're probably not ready yet. That's fine. I'll let you think about it!"

And with that, she gave him a wave and floated away, leaving Uryu alone with his sewing.

* * *

Uryu frowned at the square of white fabric before him, incredulously examining the blue crosses he had been embroidering which had somehow mutated and grown an extra two points. Whoever heard of a _six-pointed_ cross?

"Hello, Uryu!"

Uryu started, greeted once again by Orihime. His eyes were immediately drawn to the clips holding her hair back behind her ears.

_Oops._

Uryu hastily folded over a corner of the fabric, covering the mutant cross before Orihime could see it.

"Good afternoon, Orihime."

Orihime beamed. "What are you sewing?"

Uryu hesitated. "A mantle."

_Go ahead, laugh, I know that most people think capes are silly..._

"Oh, that's interesting!" said Orihime. Uryu braced himself for the laughter, but it never came.

In fact, Orihime seemed to be honestly interested.

Uryu was spared further self-conscious embarrassment by one of Orihime's friends, who turned up at that moment and dragged her away. Uryu found that actually, he wouldn't completely mind if she had stayed.

Perhaps she wasn't really so bad after all.

* * *

**Author's notes: I was re-reading Chapter 0 the other day and I was struck by how Uryu was watching Orihime before Rukia even turned up in Karakura, and I wondered how that had developed considering when Orihime introduced Uryu to Ichigo she said that she didn't know him very well. Therefore, I _had_ to write the plot-bunny. Also, I kind of liked the idea of Uryu having an awful first impression of Orihime before slowly realising that he didn't hate her as much as he thought he did. (Or at all.) :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's notes: For Necrofriggian, because she asked nicely, and I had a plot-bunny. I just thought it might be nice to go into the early canon (volumes 3-5, and Chapter 0, Side A from volume 23 and the SOULs databook) and consider what might have been going through Uryu's mind at certain points in the early story. I'm certain that this is it, though, any further and the premise is ruined because it would just be a more general alternate-POV fic. :)**

* * *

As the weeks went by, Uryu became more and more accustomed to the way Orihime Inoue appeared to be cheerfully fighting her way into his bubble, and more and more alarmed by the fact that his best attempts to prevent her could be described, at best, as half-hearted.

"Good afternoon, Uryu!"

The sound of her voice, which he had once found grating, was beginning to grow on Uryu. Whereas it had once sounded shrill and high-pitched to him, he could now discern a delicateness and femininity in the sound, along with such convincing emotion that she always gave the impression of caring. That was nice, Uryu had to admit; it had been a very long time since anybody had even pretended to care about him.

Uryu fought back the ghost of a smile threatening to erupt on his features and looked up at Orihime. "Good afternoon. I trust you're well?"

Orihime beamed. "Oh, I'm fabulous! Well, I'm much better than poor Michiru, anyway, she came down with the flu last night so I'm missing my sewing-partner! I hope you don't mind if I sit with you, today?"

Uryu really wanted to come up with an excuse, to push Orihime away, to gently repel her small hands from the bubble she was pounding on, but he made the mistake of looking up at her face and found that he was unable to tell her to take a hike.

"By all means," he found himself saying, and he shifted his sewing materials to the side of the desk, the better to give her space to sit down next to him.

"I'm glad," said Orihime, setting down her own sewing kit and pulling up a chair. "I really do want to be your friend, Uryu."

For some inexplicable reason, Uryu suddenly felt uncomfortable. It was something to do with the way his collar suddenly felt tight around his neck, and how the sun must have come out from behind the clouds outside because he felt the familiar heat pouring through the window, casting its warm glow over the classroom. Funny how nobody else seemed to be affected by it, though...

Uryu chanced a glance out of the window and saw that the sky was still cloudy. Odd.

"Anyway," Orihime continued, apparently sensing Uryu's awkwardness and brushing it off as though it were nothing.

_She's so kind._

"I'm curious. Are you going to tell me about that mantle you were sewing a while ago?"

Uryu gave a polite smile, before reaching into his school bag and taking out the folded mass of white fabric. "You mean this one?"

Orihime took it from his hands and examined the garment, running delicate fingers over the evenly stitched hems and undoing and re-doing the metal clasp. "What's the story?" she asked, quietly, as her hands ghosted over the smooth cotton.

"I'm just really fascinated by the whole medieval Christian knight look," Uryu responded.

"Oh, so like the Teutonic Knights?" asked Orihime.

Uryu was pleasantly surprised; evidently Orihime was clever, despite her reputation for ditziness. "Yes, exactly like the Teutonic Knights," he confirmed. "I just always preferred the colour blue to black," he continued, turning the cape over and revealing a (five-pointed, not at all flower-like) blue cross stitched onto the inside of the material. Orihime beamed.

"I like that colour, too," she said, nodding her agreement. "Actually, do you have any of that colour thread left that I could borrow? I was looking for some to stitch the flowers on my embroidery..."

"Certainly," Uryu's mouth said, and his hand moved of its own accord into his small bag of cotton reels, picking out a spool of sky blue and handing it to Orihime. "Use as much as you'd like."

"Thank you!" exclaimed Orihime, delightedly accepting the thread as Uryu wondered just when he had become such a pushover.

* * *

As hard as Uryu was trying to concentrate on his book, it was nearly impossible with such a racket going on around him.

"Animal crackers," said a familiar voice, almost hesitantly. Uryu's ears pricked up at this; what could possibly be causing Orihime uncertainty? He glanced up, to see Chizuru Honsho scratching away at a sheet of paper with a pen.

"No way," she said. "You like frankfurter kranz too, right?"

Orihime gave a small laugh. "Oh! Yeah!"

Uryu winced as Chizuru finished scribbling away and adopted an expression he did not like. Not one bit.

"All right!" she shouted, throwing her arms in the air. "The results of your love test are in! Your perfect match... _is me_!"

Some indescribable force tugged at Uryu, making him feel as though he had to step in at that moment, before Chizuru could get her hands on Orihime. He didn't know what it was, but Orihime seemed to have the power to just make him want to protect her; whether it was her wide, beseeching-looking eyes, her childish demeanour, or the fact that her uncommonly beauteous physical appearance was infamous for drawing in a lot of less-than-savoury types.

However, before he could interrupt Chizuru, another dragon, Tatsuki Arisawa, had slammed her foot down on the pervert's head. "_Those questions were rigged_!" she yelled, as Chizuru's nose crunched against the desk and a stream of blood poured from the injured girl's nose.

"What was that for?!" she wailed.

As Tatsuki prepared to respond with another punch, Uryu noticed Orihime's attention being drawn towards the door. "Oh," he heard her soft voice exclaim, as Ichigo Kurosaki was about to walk out.

"Going home, Ichigo?" she asked, brightly, and although her face was turned away from him Uryu could see the trace of a blush on what little of her right cheek he could see.

_She likes him_.

Uryu couldn't say why, but this thought bothered him somewhat.

"Yeah, I gotta run," said Ichigo, disinterestedly. "See you, Orihime!" And with that, Ichigo walked out without a backwards glance at the waving Orihime.

_He doesn't see her the same way_.

Ah, that must have been what bothered him. Poor Orihime had a crush on somebody who would never like her back.

Uryu felt sorry for her.

* * *

"Hey, Uryu, did you hear? Spontaneous Trips is visiting Karakura tonight!"

Surprised by this variation of her afternoon greeting, Uryu blinked. "Spontaneous Trips?"

"Yes, you know, Don Kanonji's show!" jabbered Orihime, plonking her bag down on the floor by Uryu's desk and bringing her hands up to cross over her chest as she made the familiar pose. "Bwahahaha!"

"I am aware," Uryu responded, as Orihime pulled up a chair. Uryu found that although she was being particularly raucous today, he welcomed her presence. Whatever happened to finding her annoying? He was even coming to appreciate her unreasonable enthusiasm for everything she saw.

Orihime pursed her lips. "Well, are you going?"

"Yes," Uryu replied without hesitation, somehow finding himself glad that she was a fan of the programme, too.

"Brilliant!" she exclaimed, taking out her sewing project and humming happily. "Perhaps I'll see you there, then!"

Uryu gave a small smile. "Perhaps."

* * *

It was a strange day, Uryu thought, when Orihime didn't turn up to the handicrafts club.

The emptiness of Orihime's usual seat in the classroom concerned him; despite the excitement of Don Kanonji's visit to Karakura, Orihime had been emanating a feeling of melancholy ever since the anniversary of the onset of his mother's coma. Had she somehow picked up on his own sadness? Uryu doubted it. It probably had more to do with the fact that Ichigo Kurosaki happened to be absent from school on the very same day. What right did that bastard have to be so miserable that he couldn't come to school, when Uryu had lost his mother on that day and yet didn't feel the need to bunk off? Some people had _real_ problems.

Perhaps Orihime's absence was because she was busy studying. She had to make _some_ time to do so; there was no other explanation for how her results for the last school assessments were third in their year group, only nine points behind his own.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and Uryu felt the sensation that he was being watched. Without turning around, Uryu focused on the spiritual pressure floating in from the door, and determined that the smell was the somehow comfortingly familiar, yet somehow abhorrently enemy odour of Ichigo Kurosaki's newly-developed and distinctively chaotic spiritual pressure, along with faint traces of a new, flowery scent he had been picking up on for the last couple of weeks.

Was that... _Orihime_?

Ichigo was a Soul Reaper (albeit a _very _strange-smelling one), but Uryu had never smelled anything like Orihime's spiritual pressure before her. What powers could she possibly be developing? He didn't have a clue.

_What a fascinating girl_.

"It's true, he really is in our class."

_Stupid Ichigo_, Uryu thought, as he heard Ichigo's low voice. He _really had no idea I existed until I confronted him the other day. What could Orihime possibly see in him_?

"See?" he heard Orihime's soft voice say. Uryu sighed, packing up his bag and standing up, deciding to leave before Ichigo's idiocy provoked him into punching the moron.

"Oh, he's leaving!" Ichigo said.

_Well spotted, genius. Your observational skills astound me_.

"Wait! Look!" Orihime's voice penetrated his thoughts. "Michiru's taking her torn doll to him!"

Uryu turned his head in surprise, and saw that Michiru Ogawa was indeed approaching him, clutching a stuffed animal. "Ishida!" she cried. Without a word, Uryu reached inside his bag for his sewing kit.

"What's he got? A pencil box?" Ichigo's voice demanded from the door. Uryu set the sewing kit down on the table, restraining the urge to scream in frustration at his ignorant classmate.

Orihime appeared to giggle. "No, it's a sewing kit."

"So..?"

"_Sewing_!" Orihime corrected him, and Uryu felt a rush of gratitude to her for hammering some logic into Ichigo's brain.

Suddenly, it hit Uryu that Orihime was talking about him. More to the point, she was _watching_ him. Watching his every move.

_Why_?

Ignoring Michiru Ogawa, Uryu snapped open his sewing kit and selected the thread closest to the colour of Michiru's doll. Careful not to make a silly mistake which would make him look like an idiot in front of Orihime, like dropping the spool onto the floor or stabbing his finger with the needle in his haste, Uryu raised the needle and the end of the thread to his eyes and carefully but swiftly threaded the needle, relief flooding him when he managed to get the cotton through the eye on his first attempt.

Uryu proceeded to patch up the doll as dramatically as possible, making a row of stitches in record time, constantly aware that he was being watched. After just a few seconds, he finished with a triple stitch (a double would usually be enough, but he wanted to be certain that he had done a thorough and perfect job - Michiru was friends with Orihime, and he knew that she would be the first person to know if his work on the doll ever began to unravel), threw the doll into the air and bit off the end of the thread. Scissors would probably have been tidier, but it just wouldn't have had the same _cool_ effect.

Uryu silently handed the doll back to Michiru, hoping that Orihime had caught his epic job of fixing the animal, and Michiru proceeded to enthusiastically throw the doll in the air.

"You fixed him! Thank you, Ishida!" she exclaimed, her face alight with joy.

"Don't do that," he responded, quietly, pushing his glasses up his nose as he smelled another waft of Orihime's spiritual pressure and felt his face burn, knowing that she was still watching him. "It was nothing."

As Michiru walked away, Uryu wondered why the whole situation made him feel so embarrassed, and why he had felt the need to show off when he had realised that Orihime was watching. Why the hell should he care so much about what she thought of him, anyway?

After he felt Orihime's and Ichigo's spiritual pressures disappear from the door, the penny dropped.

_Oh._

Uryu's eyes widened as the world around him cracked, falling, in shattered fragments, to the floor.

_I _like_ this girl._

Well, Uryu had always known that he had to grow up at some point. However, that didn't make the fact that his bubble was finally lying in shards by his feet any less disturbing to him.


End file.
